


I Told You on the Day We Wed

by Nicolevicious



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bonding, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Relationship, Kinda Dystopia, M/M, Magic, Magic and Science, Magic-Users, Monarchy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Safe Sane and Consensual, Strangers, Strangers to Lovers, Sub Steve Rogers, Synesthesia, There's A Tag For That, There's just too many tags, Top Bucky, Top Bucky Barnes, Working Toward Utopia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicolevicious/pseuds/Nicolevicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were few days that everyone in the kingdom of Avanna would remember for their entire lives. Not because nothing happened but because very few things happened. In the future, they'll probably speak of this day as the second biggest event. Maybe the third biggest event to ever happen. No matter what they thought, this would be the most important event in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Matter How You Feel

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a small little idea based on a picture prompt on tumblr just a few days ago. Now I can't seem to rip myself away from it. It keeps growing more and more and more in my mind. I have fucking maps drawn out of this fictional land of Avanna, charts of how everyone is connected...it's insane. Also, I've never written this much for a single chapter before. [Visit my blog here to enjoy a plethora of stuff and to talk to me about said stuff.](http://littlewriterbigworld.tumblr.com/)

There were few days that everyone in the kingdom of Avanna would remember for their entire lives. Not because nothing happened but because very few things happened. The war would always be the first thing to come to mind, if you took the time to ask an Avannian. It was short lived, but brutal, causing the destruction of their capital city of Starn. The King; King Dominant George of the House Barnes, rallied his troops and put an end to the chaos in his streets. Magic was neutralized within the city limits and soldiers arrested all they could. There were so few casualties; it could have hardly been called a war. Even fewer Avannians could tell you the truth of its start.

In the future, they'll probably speak of this day as the next biggest event. Maybe the third biggest event to ever happen. No matter what they thought, this would be the most important event in his life. He would make it so. A marriage was supposed to be the most important day in one’s life, wasn't it? That’s what his mother always told him, as she would tell him once more as soon as he got back to the palace.

He stood a quarter of a day’s ride away by horse, in the former capital. The sky was a dingy brown, as it was for as long as he could remember. Grey clouded over more of the dirty sky - smoke rose high into the air from the industrial buildings’ columns in the next city of Shileen; the new capital. He didn't think people knew how often he came here. How he would be able to after… His flesh right hand caressed the metal of his left arm. It was a constant reminder; his constant reminder of the war. Yet, it was not the memory that stood out in his mind the most. He stands on the ruins of the old palace’s largest balcony, where he and his mother would wave to the citizenship below. Few came this far now, these ruins well beyond the Trough, where the poor and homeless roamed. 

He thinks that this day will be first in his mind, then his coronation day, the one that was to take place in a week’s time. Then, maybe, the war will come third. Or children, if he is ever granted with any. All he could do with that one is wait to see if the Gods were gracious to him and his almost-husband.

“We've got to head out if you plan on making it to your wedding, Bucky.” The sentence was a snap back into the material world. Very few people in the world dared to call him, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes of Avanna, a nickname like ‘Bucky’. Thankfully, he liked this person. The bright red hair of General Dominant Natalia of the House Romanova, the head of his guard, came around the corner with that expectant look on her face. Little did the kingdom know she was the reason he got his duties done. His best friend came from the military city of Berlek, deep in central Avanna, and was more of an advisor than that of a guard as her title stated she was. It was because of Natalia’s love of structure that he got out of bed most mornings.

“You think Mother would be mad if I tried to postpone it?”

“With the soon-to-be Queen Mother’s retirement and revival of Starn postponed as well? She'd drag you by your ear.” Natalia knew of his doubts in this arranged marriage. He was the only one he spoke to of them. “Everything will be fine, Bucky. I’m sure the Duke will come to love you, as your mother came to love your father and your grandfather to your grandmother. On both sides.” It was an easy reminder of the life they led. A person was born into their title and expected to live up to the life of the one whom held it before them. “Besides,” she just as easily gave him a glare, “if you don't wear that damn tuxedo after all the complaining you did during your fitting, I will have to start an uprising and take your throne.” And with her about to lead his army, he wouldn't be surprised if she succeeded.

 

For as long as Steve could remember, there was color all around him, even before his magic manifested. What was fascinating was that it wasn't just the color of the world around him. There was color in words and music and letters and numbers and sounds of all kinds. It was overwhelming when he was young, but his time at the Academy taught him to control it.

Everything was different to him, yet, it was all the same too. ‘L’ was quite often green to him, but turned a bright red when stuck next to ‘ove’. ‘Marriage’ had always been bright, innocent and white, and ‘Dominant’ had always been a happy green. Today, though, all the colors in his mind were muddled, as if grey was mixed into each and every one of them. It was as if the Gods were sucking the light from his life.

This, of course, wasn't the case. The day of his marriage was supposed to be the happiest of his life with extra smiles added on because he was marrying the Crown Prince Dominant. He was to do this with no worries or fears or doubts – oh, who was he kidding? He’s never even met the guy and he was to marry him; spend the rest of his life with him. With the contents of this – this – this – this fucking parade of fools, he was to move from his home on Coff Hill to Shileen. He, His Grace, Duke Submissive Steven Grant of the House Rogers of Croanworth, was to become His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Submissive Steven Grant of the House Barnes of Avanna. And then – and then! – A week later he and his husband would be crowned His Royal Majesties King blah blah blah of Avanna. He couldn't even think about it right now. There was already too much floating around in his head.

The journey from his home was faster in the motor vehicles that had been sent by the House Barnes. That still didn't take away from the fact that he was in a procession across the land for hours, only to be pulled from his seat and submerged into wedding preparation. He itched to draw, to let some of his magic and feelings out, but no one would let him out of sight for a second. He could sing instead, but any notes from his mouth would only cause sorrow and tears, which is exactly what was bubbling up inside of him. As if she knew, his tutor Lady Switch Margaret of the House Carter whisked him out of the hands of strangers and took preparation into her own capable hands.

“Sing for me, Steven, while we get you ready.” She took no mind to the balking crowd of the House Barnes servants, shutting the door to the bathing room and starting the tub.

“But you'll cry, my lady.” They both knew she wouldn't, not because of his song. Her magic prevented her from that.

“They'll be happy tears, no matter your song.” The amount of times she told him that she was happy for him and proud of him were uncountable. The words were a coral color in his mind, though he knew they should be a bubbly pink of elation. And so he does as he’s told. 

Steve steps from his clothes and into the tub, words pouring from his heart and out his mouth. He doesn't know what he’s singing, let alone if the words are real or in the vernacular. He knows the tune is sad. He knows anyone listening outside of the door would be crying. He continues on as Margaret helps him wash and rub the sweetly smelling oils into his skin and hair. His things must have been either gone through or unpacked as Lady Switch Virginia of the House Potts, the only advisor he was allowed to bring with him, brought in the white suit of misery.

“It’s not going to be bad, Your Grace. All accounts have told me the Crown Prince Dominant is one all Dominants should look up to.” As if he needed the reminder that his almost-husband had slept with a list of people while little him was inexperienced; the image of the pure and innocent submissive.

“How much longer?” He wanted this to all be over already. How much torture could you put one person through?

“Not much, Steven. Be patient.” Margaret put gunk in his hair and ran her fingers through it, styling it how she knew he liked it. He wasn't as antsy as he was earlier, that’s for sure. Virginia tucked his shirt into his pants, and slid the vest onto his shoulders.

“You’re coming together quite nicely, Your Grace.” She spoke softly. She started humming a tune, something upbeat and happy that sunk into his bones. She was using her magic – the same magic he had – to calm him, his nerves and his agitation. He would be even more aggravated at that if she wasn't making him feel so calm.

 

By the time Bucky got back to the palace, he didn't have time to go see his mother like he planned. 

“That’s your fault, bud. Gods save the King.”

“Shut up, Talia.” He shot back as they walked through the halls. “I'm not even King yet.”

“Yeah, you won’t be alive if you don’t make it to the wedding, either, cause she'll kill you.” 

“Just shut up!”

“Make sure you scrub behind your ears!” She called out as she veered off. She had her own preparing to do for the ceremony.

He reached his chambers, only a little time until the wedding was to begin. He waved off his personal servants, washing much faster without them in the way. He fumbled with getting the containers for the oil open, the gravity of the situation finally settling in. Without a conscious thought, Bucky traced a symbol in the air, sighing as it glowed bright red and faded, calm washing over him. His hands stopped shaking within a minute, but his head... He shook off the dizziness and delirium that danced in his head. The container is much easier to open this time around. The smell of woods, smoke and a gentle musk get applied modestly, running the excess on his hands through his hair. There was no need to style it with goop today.

“Could you run any later?” Duke Submissive Clint of the House Barton, a very good friend of his, jumped from the chair he was lying across once Bucky got into the room.

“Why aren't you helping Talia?” They were betrothed, after all. Clint ignores him, trying to hand him undershorts. “I don't wear those things.”

“Hear, hear! Long live that decree.” He’s handed trousers instead.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I'm not King yet!”

“But you will be in a week. You should bring it up with the Council, just in case.”

“One issue at a time, Clint, by the Gods, how does Talia even deal with you? Give me my vest.” He’s ignored once more and handed a black vest to be layered over a red shirt; the house colors were always worn at one’s wedding. Bucky was assisted into a black formal coat and brushed down for stray hairs.

“You clean up well, Your Majesty.”

“Highness - Gods grant me mercy!” The crackle of power through the room must have gotten the hint to Clint finally. Bucky hadn't had the pleasure of going to the Academy to control his magic as others did. For the most part, it was under control. Other times, well, he was told it gets easier once you have a spouse to help.

“We don't have time for that.” Bucky indulged himself with glance to the clock. Shit. Two minutes past; he was already supposed to be at the altar.

Down the many stairs and in a hall far to the right, the palace hid a private Cathedral for the royal family. For the day’s celebration, it had been decorated in yards of deep red with small pops of shocking black. Vases of flowers stood at the end of each pew and the organ played a tune of happy harmony. It was all decorated enough to be considered grand by all of the court gossipers. One newspaper was allowed in to document the occasion. The reporter looked young, inexperienced and overwhelmed. A professional photographer was set up in the back, waiting patiently. Bucky got to the doors of the Cathedral and stopped his run, strolling in as if he was arriving right on time. The people in the pews stood and bowed their heads, the women tilting at the knees in a curtsy. He joined the Archduke Nicholas of the House Fury, the minister for this occasion, at the altar. The signal was given for things to proceed.

That simple signal was all it took. The music shifted into a traditional march, magic infused within it bring everyone to a teary smile. The Cathedral doors opened once more; the guests continued to stand, but their heads were up, awaiting their first look at the soon-to-be Crown Prince Submissive.

Bucky took the moment of distraction to look around. He didn't care much about the decorations; those were for everyone else, as far as he was concerned. He cared about who had shown up, who he would have to deal with following the ceremony, and what he needed to anticipate being said. His mother, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Dowager Submissive Winifred of the House Barnes, was in the front pew with his sister, Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Switch Rebecca of the House Barnes. No one dared sit with them. His father, Gods rest his soul, had passed away a little over a year ago. This arrangement was the final thing King Dominant George had been working on. It was the main reason Bucky had been adamant on going through with it. In the row behind his family, Clint stood with his other friends – his other Dukes and Lords and parts of his advisory council. The opposite side of the Cathedral were Earls and Barons and Counts that he couldn’t name. Logically, he knew, at least one of those people was here to represent and support his husband.

Speaking of which, he could finally see them at the doorway. Bucky hadn't had the pleasure of meeting his husband before their arrangement. Honestly, they hadn't even seen each other in person until now. He looked just like the picture that had been sent to him: golden hair styled in a messy-yet-handsome manner on his head, fair skin with just a hint of red at his cheeks, nearly unnatural azure eyes, and a delicate frame. Steven, Bucky better get used to using his name, was wearing a very traditional white suit, his vest silver in a symbol of elegance and mystery. It was a question of what was to come.

Talia led the Duke up the aisle. She was a symbol of the security Bucky was about to promise, dressed in her formal military uniform and decorated with her medals. Steven’s own personal guards trailed behind them, holding the House Rogers banner of an eagle clutching a white star in its talons. She led him up to the altar, kneeling in sync with everyone else as she offers Bucky the hand of the only person still standing. He may be shaking a little again as he takes Steven’s hand, but neither of them will ever admit it. This hand is incredibly soft in his hand, and much smaller than he thought it would be. It’s with that hand he leads Steven to his spot next to him.

“Rise and be seated.” The Archduke Fury speaks his first words, beginning the ceremony that would change Bucky and Steven’s lives. “There is a time in everyone’s life where they will feel incomplete. They will realize that something is missing. Then, someone comes into their life and fills the void. This person has felt the same emptiness; they understand how it feels; what it means. Today is that day. We have gathered here together to combine two souls, two lives, to make a new whole life. Today we celebrate the joining of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes and the Duke Submissive Steven Grant of the House Rogers.” Bucky and Steve look at the Archduke as he speaks. Bucky, knowing what was coming next, braces himself.

“Before continuing with the ceremony, a moment shall be taken in remembrance of His Royal Majesty, King Dominant George of the House Barnes. Gods save the King.” While his metal hand held his husband’s hand, Bucky’s flesh hand made the sign of the cross of the Gods. Even after of year of his father being gone, it still hurt to acknowledge it. The Archduke turned, dipping his hand in a bowl of blessed water. With his turn back around, he flicked the water on the couple.

“With this water, the Gods wash away the past. They abolish you of sins and sorrows, of fear and loneliness, and all else that has plagued you.” He turns again, dipping his fingers in oil this time. He draws a cross on the forehead of each man. “With these oils, you are given the blessings of Aluin, God of the Hearth, with well wishes of a happy home.” The oil is wiped from the Archduke’s fingers. “It takes great people to take the large step of marriage. It takes even greater people to bind themselves as these two are to do.” Not like we have a choice, Bucky thinks to himself, the law requires magic of the reigning monarchs be bound to one another. “Please, face each other and align your palms. Now, exert just a small amount of your magic.” They watched as Steve’s palms emitted a bright, colorful light and Bucky’s emitted a red, dark glow. It was the reveal of their magic to each other and Bucky couldn't help but think that Steve looked nothing but scared. He wouldn't blame him if he truly was. His magic was nothing to play around with. Nonetheless, their magic accepts one another as the ancient words are spoken in a long dead language, binding their magic together in a show of dark and light radiance.

“Now we bind these men in matrimony.” The Archduke ushers a little girl forward, probably a child of one of the Earls he doesn't know, so she may present them with rings. Bucky picks the right one up first, admiring it as he didn’t have a chance to do before. It was dark platinum with the red star of the House Barnes set in it in the form of a ruby. Bucky shifts their hands, putting one of Steven’s down and picking up the other.

“I, James Buchanan of the House Barnes, do hereby accept you, Steven Grant, of the House Rogers, as my lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of the Gods, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part.” He kisses the back of the hand he’s holding, actually thinking how he could kiss up that arm and just gobble this man up in other circumstances. He puts the ring on the fourth finger of his new husband’s left hand. It wasn't until Steve picked up the opposite ring that he looked into Bucky’s eyes for the first time. It wasn't until then that Bucky realized that this was going to probably be harder than he anticipated. Steve’s azure eyes were bright but not with tears or happiness. It was fear that Bucky saw there. The red ears weren't out of lust or desire or passion, but of embarrassment and maybe hate. Once again, Bucky wouldn't blame him. He admired, however, how none of it showed as his vow was recited; how Steven’s magic didn't even slip into his voice.

“I, Steven Grant of the House Rogers, do hereby accept you, James Buchanan of the House Barnes, as my lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of the Gods, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part.” Bucky can't feel the ring being put on his metal finger, but the knowledge of its presence there makes it almost as if he can. He can imagine how the cold metal would feel against the heat of his hand, how the raised ruby would be smooth where it was cut. With a nod from the Archduke Fury, it was time for the final part of the ceremony. Bucky purposefully held both of Steven’s hands and looked him in the eyes as Steven eased himself onto his knees.

“I have wed you as my equal, before our friends and family and by the law of the Gods,” Bucky spoke, loud enough so he could be heard, voice smooth as silk, “and now I'm supposed to take that from you.” This part, the collaring ceremony, was not scribed. He was supposed to have done it earlier, but, well, that didn't happen. He hoped winging would suffice as he spoke what was on his mind. “I stand before you, each of us nothing but a mystery to the other, and I find that I can’t take equality from you. Our laws cite, above all, safe, sane and consensual, when it comes to a coupling. As Crown Prince Dominant, as your husband, I can't when I see fear in your eyes.” Although he could almost see it melting away while he spoke. “I will collar you; take you as my submissive, but no matter what tradition dictates I will do no more until you give yourself to me willingly. This, I promise you as your husband, as your spouse, as your Dominant and as your Crown Prince Dominant-to-be-King.” Well, he just done went and fucked all kinds of shit up. 

Bucky didn't look, but he knew the crowd would have a look of shock. He broke all kinds of tradition, both royal and common. He’s pretty sure he may have broken a law in his declaration as well. It didn't matter, though, not when the look of fear on Steven’s face had slowly changed into one of appreciation. Bucky couldn't take it back, not that he would. Every word poured from his heart to his mouth, completely bypassing his brain-filter. The council could deal with the aftermath, or whoever took care of those kinds of things. He had more important things to worry about now, like actually getting a collar on Steven.

This he kept in his pocket, unlike the rings. He only let go of Steven’s hand to get it out. The strip of leather was simple compared to his promise. Bucky had picked the leather out himself, the color pitch black and the feeling smooth enough to be compared to silk. It would cause his husband no discomfort. A single pendant hung from the hook made of the same platinum as their wedding rings. The pendant itself wasn't big enough to hold any physical weight but the symbolism of it rung throughout the hall. One side was the ruby red star of the House Barnes. The other was the sparkling white star of the House Rogers, made of the finest diamond. Together, they united and made one whole star; just as Steven was brought into the House Barnes under Bucky’s direction, making a new unit to rule the land. Bucky secures the collar around his submissive’s neck.

“By the power sanctioned to me by Her Majesty, Queen Dowager Submissive Winifred of the House Barnes, and by the Gods of Avanna, I now pronounce you husband and husband, Dominant and submissive.” It took a moment for the Archduke Fury’s words to sink into the crowd. Bucky’s mother was the first one to clap. It started a roar of applause throughout the Cathedral. Bucky kissed his submissive’s head and helped him to his feet. They thanked the Archduke, smiled to each other and turned to the crowd. The new couple waved, holding hands, and unknowingly thinking the same thing.

This is going to be a long night.


	2. I Know You're Feeling Like You Just Can't Win, But You're Trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT THANK YOU GUYS. The feedback I got on the first chapter is the most feedback I've gotten on the first chapter of anything ever. It really pushed me to write this second chapter. It's also pushed me to create a new 4,000 word minimum for myself while keeping the chapters as interesting as possible. Remember, I greatly welcome ConCrit and that means I expect someone to tell me if something is wrong or not making sense or anything at all. Things will move kinda fast as much as I do and don't want them to at the same time. While the Stucky plot is a big piece, I have a bigger plot I want to write that made me want to do this in the first place. [Catch me on tumblr 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. (Click here, silly!)](http://littlewriterbigworld.tumblr.com/)

Steve knew there was a time when Margaret and Virginia would have to leave him. He knew it wasn’t forever, just until later in the night – maybe tomorrow morning. It didn’t mean he was prepared for it. They deemed him ready for his wedding, dressed up in a fancy white suit he didn’t like and smelling of something that wasn’t him. He hated it. They each kissed a cheek of his and bid in farewell. Someone from the House Barnes would retrieve him for the ceremony.

Seconds felt like they were turning to minutes and minutes to hours. Drawing would pass the time, if he could find something to draw with or on, but he tended to lose too much time when he let his magic out unsupervised. It would have to wait. Maybe, if An – Goddess of Luck – happened to be on his side, his new Dominant would allow him to draw tonight. He wouldn’t hold his breath. The Gods tended to overlook members of his magic caste.

He jumped at the knock on the door. He felt silly. His own personal guards, Sir Thor Odinson and Sir Samuel Wilson, stood watch outside.

“Come in.” It must be the representative from the House Barnes come to collect him. He certainly didn’t expect a petite looking woman with long fiery red hair. Her eyes could only be described as hunter and her sleek black uniform screamed high ranking military.

“Oh, he is just going to adore you.” Her voice was clear, though he felt like the comment was supposed to stay to herself. Steve blinked at her.

“I’m sorry?”

“The Crown Prince – Bucky – James; he’s going enjoy looking at you. He always did have a thing for blondes. Almost a downfall, really.” She circled him but not in the way a lioness would circle her prey. It felt more like the way a lioness was protecting her cub. She stopped a bowed to him, arm crossed over her chest and fist at her shoulder. “General Dominant Natalia of the House Romanova, Your Grace. Forgive me for speaking so freely; it’s a habit the Crown Prince has allowed me to get away with.”

“I find no offense, m’lady, just a bit…startled, I think.” Her words had been as vibrant in his mind as her eyes were. It was the first bit of real color he experienced since this fiasco started. “Could you – I mean, if we have a moment – could you tell me more of him? The Crown Prince?” Steve watches her glance at the clock as he asks. She nods; they had a minute or so, knowing Bucky and his tardiness.

“He’s a teddy bear, first and foremost. Don’t let him ever make you think differently. He’s kind and caring and tries to help everyone he can. I’ve never seen him use his rank as royalty or Dominant to control a person in all the years I’ve known him - and that’s a long time. He can be quite stubborn, but he comes around eventually.” The green turns lighter and brighter in his mind. “He’s horrible with timetables, hates paper work and won’t get out of bed in the mornings. He’s got a sweet tooth a mile wide. He’s got as many fears about this marriage as you do. My advice, Your Grace, if you’d like it, is to give him a chance and try this. Let him show you that he can be a good husband and a good Dominant even though this was arranged.” She quieted, as if to let him digest it, but she was really looking at the clock. She held out her arm and led him to what he’d been thinking of as his doom.

They got to the Cathedral, Thor and Sam following, the clink of their armor the only sound really being made. He didn’t look at the nameless faces of the people that we to become his court. Despite General Romanova’s words, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy this. Steve had always dreamed of holding this day in the little church at Coff Hill, colors so bright they made him wince and so in love he was sick with it.

He could admit, however, that his husband did look good. The man was tall, with a bit longer than average dark brown – black? – hair. It was messy; either not styled at all or styled just enough. No matter the way or reason, it looked good on him. Very good. He could even see the smoke colored eyes that were set just right on his face. Everything about him just worked. The black suit was obviously tailored. The red shirt didn’t make him look that off color it made other’s look. If he got anything out of this marriage, it was going to be eye candy, obviously.

The ceremony had been practiced by him many times over with Margaret. He was determined to not shake or embarrass himself or his new House. The Crown Prince shaking though? Hello, shocker. He would never bring it up, but it made him a little warm to know that he was that nervous. Steve would say he could anticipate anything that was going to happen. Then he placed his palms under James’s and they exerted magic and by the Gods. The dark light tingled in his palms, bringing the first real shot of fear in his gut. That magic caste was the most dangerous of them all, only ever appearing in Dominants and causing madness. There was no backing out as the color mixed with the dark, the magic binding them.

James started speaking and the words were probably the brightest shade of yellow he’s ever experienced before. Sure, it was the traditional wedding vows but… why? Why were this man’s words so bright in his mind? What made him so different? It made him angry. He was angry at the situation, at the brightness, at the fear, and at the fact that some part of him was trying to rationalize wanting to be happy. He knew he should be disgusted with all of it.

And then: the collaring ceremony. Steve didn’t get to speak. Submissives didn’t get the right, under old law, to choose their Dominant. Therefore they weren’t given the choice to pledge themselves to a Dominant; the Dominant was essentially allowed to claim whoever they wanted. The Crown Prince’s words - James’s words wiggled through the anger and brought out something else. The hot pink letters danced before his eyes, twirled around and grew brighter before settling down. He wasn’t going to be forced. James wanted – was willing to – wait until he was ready. Until Steve was ready. The idea was radical and progressive and to take action on it… there would be repercussions, he knew. He couldn’t let this blow out of proportion. He couldn’t set himself on the thought of being able to wait until he was ready. He was in a bit of a daze even as James kissed his forehead and brought him to his feet.

This was nothing he expected. Everything he prepared for didn’t happen and what was never supposed to happen was taking place right before his eyes. Steve’s daze continued as he was led out of the Cathedral, the people bowing as the newlyweds passed. James brought him through the ornate wooden doors, down a hall and up a set of stairs, to the room where they were to wait until the celebratory feast. It was a simple sitting room, decorated in deep red and dark stained wood. A fire roared in the stone fireplace. Books lined the wall opposite the fireplace. The wall between them was made of glass – windows – overlooking the luscious gardens of the courtyard. The sun had set sometime during the wedding ceremony, leaving the moon out with twinkling stars for its companions. Overall, the room screamed royalty and importance. To think – this was just a simple sitting room.

“I guess we should –“

“Did you really mean it?” They spoke at the same time but Steve made sure he was heard. His eyes bore into his new husband’s eyes. He needed an honest answer now that they were alone. “Did you really mean it? About wanting to wait until I was ready?” Because the words still echoed bright yellow and hot pink and so sincere he couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“Yes, Steven, I meant it. I – I know what tradition dictates,” that the marriage was to be consummated that night and James’s every word obeyed, “but I’m not all that traditional.” He gave Steve a grin. Steve already knew that, though; that James wasn’t traditional. 

There wasn’t a person of age in the kingdom that didn’t know about the untraditional James Buchanan of the House Barnes. The Crown Prince, especially in his younger days, was known for his partying and frequent bedmates. Rumors had started about the Crown Prince and his illegitimate children all too often. Most people overlooked it, saying it was his way of coping with his war injury; the only way someone that young could think of dealing with losing a limb. Once the King passed, however, the House Barnes went into mourning and everything changed.

The partying and rumors quickly stopped. Reports went out of the Crown Prince’s preparation in taking over the kingdom. The House Rogers was sent word that the House Barnes would proceed with the marriage plans. It had been arranged as payoff of debt to begin with, then a remembrance to the late King. Steve understood; that’s why he went through with it still. That and his mother pushed him to. She, Her Grace, Duchess Dominant Sarah of the House Rogers, was never focused on the good of the House, but on the good of her son.

“I… thank you, James. That’s very kind of you.”

“Bucky,” Steve watches the Crown Prince turn a little pink, “please, call me Bucky. All my close friends called me that. I figured since we’re married and all…”

“Bucky – I can do that at least, as long as you call me Steve.”

“Steve.” There’s a smile and his name floats around in a warm orange.

“Yes. Only my mother calls me ‘Steven’, and the people using my title.”

“I’ll make sure to only use it when you’re in trouble, then.” Steve sees Bucky’s tease in vibrant lavender. Even so, he can’t find it in himself to joke back just yet. Bucky must have seen the look on his face because his smile fell from his face. His next words were a deep, sorrowful blue. “I didn’t mean to – shit, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“Would you really punish me?” Steve tried not to let his voice sound small or scared. He’d heard stories of punishments gone horribly wrong.

“If I had to, yes,” he answers honestly, “there are only so many laws I can break before they deem me unfit to rule.”

“They can do that? The advisory council, right?”

“I have a number of friends on the council so I hope if it ever does come down to it, I’ll have nothing to worry about. It’s always a possibility, though, even more so with my magic caste. Honestly, I think a fair amount of them that don’t want me to become King.” Steve’s heart softened at the confession and the amount of trust Bucky already had in him to be able to tell him that. He gives a rueful, almost apologetic, smile. “Too much too soon?”

“Not at all. Its information I’ll have to learn anyways, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Bucky took to standing at the window while Steve looked into the fire. He had a feeling Bucky wouldn’t mind if he sat without being given permission but years of submissive etiquette kept him standing.

“You really made him stand this entire time?” Steve recognized the voice of General Romanova’s in a blinding green.

“Gods be with me, Talia; between you and Clint… who did I make stand?” She gestured to Steve in a very scolding manner. Bucky looked confused for a whole minute and then, there it was, realization. “I didn’t – Steve, you don’t have to wait for my permission to sit.” Obviously he was going to have to get used to having a submissive and caring for them.

“Old habits.” He forced himself to crack a smile. It wasn’t Bucky’s fault, not really. “Besides, we’re going to be sitting for a long time during the feast. I may as well stretch my legs out now.”

“You’ll get a chance to stretch them when we dance – what?” Steve could put money on him looking entirely nervous and a bit pale. Dancing was horrible; he hated it because he was so bad at it and vice versa. It was a never ending circle that couldn’t be broken.

“I’m not particularly fond of dancing.” His voice was small, an attempt to not upset his new Dominant but express his feelings at the same time.

“That’s okay, Your Highness. Bucky won’t force you to partake. He has plenty of other people he can dance with if he so chooses.” It’s the General that assures him. She must have a submissive or have experience in caring for one. It gains her a shy look and a nod.

They’re escorted through the hallways by General Romanova. Bucky holds his arm like he matters; like this is really and not forced and he lets himself believe it. Steve allows himself to fall into the illusion because what else was he to do? She takes a few steps ahead of them, standing at the top of a staircase and crosses her arms behind her back.

“It is my greatest honor to present to you,” She speaks out to the crowd below, the one Steve can’t see but he can hear as they fall quiet, “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes and his husband, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Submissive Steven Grant of the House Barnes.” She turns, arm out, showing the off as they come down the stairs. Steve plasters on the same fake smile as Bucky.

It’s not like anyone in the crowd could tell. They all gave blinding smiles and clapped, the roar coming back. A few of them even cheered. Steve couldn’t help but think of how used to this Bucky must be. He’d never had anyone cheering for him, let alone clapping. The roar and applause followed them into the Great Hall. He knew from experience that meals weren’t normally taken here. It was only proven by the pristine condition of the carved table and chairs and how the porcelain gleamed in the light. Just like the sitting room, dark stained wood and red cloth dominate the room. Candles were used to light the massive space, though electricity easily could have been used as well. Food wasn’t yet on the table but all kinds of flowers and decorations were. Bucky led Steve to their table, set horizontal in the back of the room. Two other long tables sat vertical, making a ‘U’ for everyone to sit at. He’s directed to the smaller of the two largest chairs. People filed in after them, waiting to sit until the royal couple did first. The chairs were placed close to each other – to the point that Bucky’s arm was deep in his personal bubble. Still, Steve smiled up at his husband and sits with a straight spine in his chair.

There are a few minutes before all the guests are seated and situated. Every seat is filled by someone of noble or royal status. It takes the food being brought out and a prayer to the Goddess of Storms, Plains and Fire, Mika, being said by the Cardinals Wanda and Pietro of the House Maximoff for the room to quiet for just a moment. Steve can’t believe his eyes as centerpieces are filled with food. For meat: duck, geese, cow, turkey, goat, chicken and pigeon are all brought out. Baskets of sweet rolls and crusty bread begin to make their way around. Jellies and creams and butters are being requested as quickly as the corn cobs, potatoes and other sides. Pastries and sweets are claimed by a few people foregoing a proper dinner. Roasted fruits and sugared fruits and dried fruits aren’t overlooked, either. They’re snatched up as quickly as everything else. The servers couldn’t cut cheese fast enough to fill the requests. The servers pouring wine couldn’t keep up, either. 

The uncoordinated frenzy was refreshing to Steve. It was much more natural and normal and not forced… He couldn’t help it when he started laughing to himself. He could feel eyes on him as he continued on. Luckily, not too many people noticed it.

“Steve?” Bucky’s voice made the fit calm just a bit. This time when he smiled up to his husband, it was a toothy grin.

“My apologies. It’s just… We – Did it occur to you that we just spent the entire day in the most planned ceremony of the year and now this?” He motions to the frenzy that unraveled before them. “This is the most inelegant, ungainly feast I’ve ever seen. That server there,” he points to the one with the wine, “is shaking so bad he can barely fill the cups. I can only wonder if its nerves or if that pitcher is simply too heavy.”

“Not bloody likely with Grand Duke Submissive Stark being on the receiving end of that cup.” Bucky smiled as he watched and listened to Steve.

“And over there,” he points to another table where Margaret is chatting with the Archduke Fury, “my tutor is probably talking about bringing education to the Trough.” Steve glances up to Bucky. “It’s been something she’s pushed for a while; feels that everyone deserves knowledge and equality. She’s a huge submissive activist, too.”

“Is she going to be one of those troublemakers at council?” Steve can see the lavender tease above the swirling rainbow of everyone else’s voices. He knew that Margaret was being allowed to stay but he didn’t expect her to be welcome as council as well. Bucky read it on Steve’s face, too. “What, you expected me to not have her? Lady Margaret and Lady Virginia came with you as tutor and council, respectively. You will be joining me at council after coronation and so shall they. Your knights are more than welcome to stay as well, so long as they meet Talia’s requirements.”

“Really?” Bucky nods, causing Steve’s brows to furrow. “I – thank you?” Plates are finally placed in front of them. All the food Steve saw others with were there and more, so much more. Gods be with him, how was he going to eat all this? Everyone on Coff Hill could be fed with this. Large glasses of wine were served along with the plates. “This is all much more than I expected.” He didn’t mean the food and he had a feeling his new husband knew he meant that. 

It caused a tug inside of him, one that could only be caused by his secondary gender; one being caused by being a submissive. That part of his brain was recognizing that Bucky was caring for him and providing for him. It recognized that he had a Dominant and was more than willing to submit to him, even if Steve’s rational mind wasn’t. There was a part of him that now wanted to curl up in the Crown Prince’s lap and be fed his dinner. It wanted to be told how good he was. It wanted to drop to his knees, bare his throat and suck – NO. 

NO NO NO NO NO.

Not now. Please, Gods, not now. Steve could feel his face turn scarlet. That fraction of his nature tended to get out of control at times. His mother always told him that it was natural because “you idiot, it’s NATURE”. He could hear her in the back of his mind, words shining silver. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was gain a raging hard-on in the middle of his wedding feast.

“I think all this is more than either of us expected.” With Bucky’s response, the two fall quiet and eat in peace. The silence isn’t awkward or tense. It was welcome and understanding.

True to General Romanova’s word, Bucky didn’t force him to dance later in the night. He happily sat in his chair and watched as his husband twirled his mother across the floor with more grace than any human should have. Could this man be a little less perfect? Please? Steve could find no reason to hold onto his anger for the marriage. The Crown Prince’s eyes would catch his every so often and sparkle a little brighter. Maybe it was the wine. It was all too good to be true; like the beginning of the fairytales.

The night took its time in slowing down. Even to the point that Steve yawned for an innumerable time and Bucky announced they’d be turning in early. The Crown Prince thanked everyone for coming and told them they were more than welcome to continue with the festivities. General Romanova escorted them through the palace once more.

“Did you enjoy your time tonight?” Bucky’s voice was soft as to not carry through the halls.

“I did, thank you, again.” Steve smiles sleepily. There was no point in fighting the anger or hiding his exhaustion anymore. Maybe he’d pick it up again tomorrow. Maybe.

The royal apartments he’s led to are much more subdued that the sitting room was. Bucky waves the servants out, allowing Steve to get a good look around. He was actually happy to see the lack of dark wood and red. No, this space was decorated with white wood, off whites and light blues. Pieces of gold were scattered in wall decorations and knick-knacks, reminding of anyone in the room of the status of the people that lived within. The front room he currently stood in was much like the sitting room with a few more seats. And it didn’t have a wall of windows. No matter, that one. To the right was a dining area, one that had a few windows, connected to a small kitchen. There’s a hall with doors shutting this front part of the apartments off from the more private back parts. Steve knew that through those doors would be bedrooms and bathrooms and closets. Steve knew that once those doors opened, these apartments would become a sort-of home inside the palace.

It’s Bucky that moves first. He pulls Steve further in, actions sure. They go into the kitchen for two glasses of water and Bucky pulls him past the doors with no warning, no get ready for this. He must have done it a thousand times. Now that they were in the private part of the apartments, Steve could see the little personal touches of a person that lives in these rooms. He doesn’t ask where all the doors go to, what each of those doors would unveil. He’d learn in time.

“This is my – uh, the master suite. I’m going to sleep in the extra bedroom, door opposite this one.” Bucky slides his arm from Steve’s, the one that he had picked up sometime during their walk. “Your clothes have been put in the closet already.” He watches as the normally confident Crown Prince shuffle his feet like a toddler.

“That’s perfect. Thank you.” Steve smiles up at him. He knows what a submissive’s approval can do to a Dominant, just as a Dominant’s approval can thrill a submissive in the most basic and natural way possible. He can see it in Bucky’s eyes as they light up. He can see it as Bucky’s body thrums with it. 

“No, Steve. Thank you.” The words are strong, sincere and emerald all around him. It made his being vibrate. 

God, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. There was no warning to the hands coming to cup his face, to the soft lips on his forehead or the soft murmur of ‘goodnight’. He was ending the night how he started it: alone, yet yearning for company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you guys so much!
> 
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> [Catch me on tumblr 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. (Click here, silly!)](http://littlewriterbigworld.tumblr.com/)


	3. Say Hello to Something Scary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a lot of work for me to write. Basically - my job has been fucking with my schedule and my days off are screwed up (if I get days off) and Im just emotionally and physically drained. I haven't had time to think about writing let alone had the energy to sit down and write. Its getting better (obviously cause hello chapter) but I need you guys to tell me if its off or not making sense or whatever. I'm counting on you all.

_The fifteen year old Crown Prince had a number of things said about him. Nothing was ever directly said about his loyalty but everyone knew it was in question because of everything else said about him. Through his time on this planet, he had been called a playboy; he’d been called devilishly charismatic; he’d been called stubborn; he’d been called wild with negative connotations._

_At fifteen, the Crown Prince knew – he knew – that wasn’t good. He liked to have fun, yes, but the reputation he gained wasn’t going to help him when he became King. Newspapers printed the numerous speculations about him, his pastimes, and his ability to rule on a weekly basis. He knew he had to do something to show the people of Avanna that he was on their side. He had to show them he would be worthy as a ruler._

_He had the perfect opportunity when the war started. The first few battles wouldn’t do it. He waited until the battle was in Starn to tell his father he would be joining him on the battlefield._

_“Like hell you are.” The King scoffed. “You are my only son; I will not allow you to get yourself killed. You’re the only one that can take care of things if anything happens to me.” They were in the armory, the elder man being fitted with his battle gear. Some days, those words still echo in Bucky’s head before he does something incredibly stupid._

 _They should have echoed loudly hours later when he went back down to the armory. He already had his own fitted set. It was a bit more difficult to put on without help but he managed well enough. Magic had already been neutralized within the city limits – not that it mattered, his hadn’t manifested yet - so it was back to basics. Bucky grabbed both of his short swords, a bow and a full quiver. He would show his father, and the kingdom, he was good enough to be on the battlefield. He would show everyone he was more than the person that should sit in the palace and wait. He would show them all that he was more than just a well-spoken heartbreaking troublemaker. He would show his loyalty to the kingdom. He snuck out one of the tunnels under his home and made his way to the fray._

_Bucky knew he was doing well. He made his way to the front lines easily and plowed his way through enemy after enemy. The rule was to not mortally wound your opponent but to knock them unconscious. At least that was the rule for their side. There were a few close calls, Bucky was willing to admit, but nothing he couldn’t handle. An, Goddess of Luck, was on his side for sure today._

_At least he thought so. Little did he know the other Gods had plans for him. He continued on his path easily, right into enemy ranks - right into trouble. The man going against him now clearly had years more of skill and experience than Bucky did. The bow and quiver had long been abandoned and now he watched one of his swords fly out of his hand._

_He’d never forget how he watched the blade glint in the light or how he put his empty hand up to protect himself from the oncoming blade to his face. He’d never forget the pain of metal slicing flesh and muscle and bone apart as easily as a hot knife went through butter. He’d never forget the instant feeling of being sick or the scream he choked on._

_It felt like everything stopped in that moment. Through all the pain and the screaming, something else was happening, he could feel it. His body started shaking; his blood was pouring from his left arm. He could see fear in the eyes of the man opposite him, though. He didn’t know why until he saw the red and black shadows dart from his body like needles into the body opposite him. They resembled arrows, from what he could tell, passing through his attacker’s body and killing him. That was… magic. His magic? It must have finally manifested in the shock from the wound. But the neutralization? God, he couldn’t think anymore. Everything hurt. Was that the Romanov girl?_

  


Steve woke up to violent, blood curdling screaming. No, not his own. It was Bucky’s voice making that awful noise. He made it to the hall as General Romanov and another man did. They looked at each other for a second, calculating, before the General stepped forward with a knife in hand. She opened the door to the other bedroom with caution. He knew she was looking for a threat causing the screaming. Steve ducked under her, intuition telling him that there was nothing here that would harm him.

“Your Highness!” She hissed at him. He shrugged it off. Right now, that part of his brain that controlled his secondary gender was in control. Tunnel vision took over, eyes trained on Bucky’s screaming and squirming body. All he could focus on was making his Dominant feel better.

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he crawled onto the bed, making soft hushing noises. A song came from him when that didn’t work. It was saturated with his magic. He got as close to Bucky as he could, hands brushing sweat drenched hair from his forehead. His husband calmed slowly, going from thrashing around on the bed to muttering to himself in another language. As if General Romanova understood, she led the man that came with her out of the room and shut the door behind them. It left Steve on the bed with Bucky, his hand stroking over clammy skin and a soft song coming from his throat. It calmed him to know he could do something like this for his Dominant. His ministrations worked until Bucky’s breathing changed and his eyes fluttered open.

Steve stopped moving. The eyes that looked up at him had pupils blown wide and a ring of red around the iris. The breath left Steve’s lungs as he waited for Bucky’s move. He certainly didn’t have to wait long. In the split second of a blink, Bucky was on his hands and knees, hovering over Steve, who was now lying flat on the bed instead of against the headboard where he originally put himself. His song had long since stopped and his hands retreated to his sides. Sure, part of him was scared, but another part was curious and the final part knew his song would be all the protection he needed, if he needed it at all. Neither of them moved for more than just a few minutes.

  


_It had been the Romanov girl that saved him on the battlefield. Small and out of place, she’d been keeping up with Bucky the entire time, according to reports. She amputated his arm on the battlefield, the one place no one in the healing caste ventured. He couldn’t remember it but he’d been told enough times. It was right above where the sword split his arm in two. She cauterized it on the field too. He doesn’t remember that either. The citizenship was calling him a war hero, glorifying his inability to listen to what he’s told, and making songs of his triumph. Gifts are being sent to the vacation palace in Shileen, where they had to relocate to after the destruction in Starn._

_The city was beautiful, buildings a shocking white and roofs aqua blue. From his room in the medical wing, he could see the ocean. If the windows were open, he would have been able to smell the sea breeze._

_They; the doctors took more of his arm off later. That he remembered. They gave a combination of ‘we need to do it because of infection’, which was highly possible considering where the amputation happened and ‘we need to so he can be fit with a prosthetic’ for their excuses. The doctors never spoke to him, always to Mother and Father, both of whom he refused to speak to. He wouldn’t even look at his father. He wouldn’t let himself. He was afraid of what he would see; of what would be said if he did._

_The young Stark Grand Duke was brought in to work on his prosthetic arm. He was given room and a workshop in the palace and took just a day to present the royal family with a metal arm for Bucky. He showed them how it would attach to the nerves on his stump and into parts of his shoulder so that it would move with his body, as if it was his own arm still. And it did. Bucky wasn’t particularly happy about it, he’d rather have his own arm, but it served its purpose. He took trips to Pemboton, the land granted to the Starks by the King, every six months to be fitted with a new arm. He was a growing boy, after all, and was changing more and more every day. There came a day when his visit didn’t result with a new arm. He stopped growing years later and visits to Grand Duke Submissive Anthony Stark resulted in upgrades and fine tuning and philandering that was excused by his injury. He learned to live with what he had._

  


Steve watched as the red ring faded from around Bucky’s irises. His pupils were still dilated wide, the smoky-silver color barely visible. Steve only got a glimpse, though, before Bucky’s eyelids slid shut and his body collapsed on top of him. The air left Steve’s lungs in a rush, nearly making him wheeze in very bad way. It doesn't, though, and he's thankful. Bucky’s arms wrap around him and his face buried itself in the crook of his neck. There would be no getting up now - Steve realized as his face turned pink. The part of him that wanted his Dominant safe was satisfied, now humming with joy as he was snuggled into. He pushed the negative feelings it was bringing away and let himself enjoy. It wasn't so bad.

  


Bucky hummed to himself as he awoke slower than he could ever remember doing. Normally Talia would be in the room and forcing him out of bed by now. As Crown Prince, he has a number of duties and a pile of paperwork to be completed each day. He made it his personal goal each day to see how long he could go without doing it. He made it to lunch once. Talia always found him at lunch; it's like she knew. 

Back to the matter at hand, though; how did he manage to escape his General’s routine today? He really could care less as he snuggled further into the warmth beneath him, arms tightening around - that's not a pillow. That feels like a person, he thinks. Please, Gods, don't you dare. His eyes flutter open, meeting with a skinny pale neck wrapped in a familiar leather collar. Yup, they dared. Something brought him to Steve or Steve to him and right now he wasn't entirely focused on anything more than getting out of bed as fast as he could. He promised he wouldn't do anything until Steve was ready but if he couldn't even keep from creeping into his bed at night, how could he stop from doing anything else in his sleep? Bucky wasn't exactly known for his self-control in the first place. 

The quick movement wakes his sleeping husband. Those breath-taking azure eyes were foggy and unfocused as they opened. He blinked a few times before his brow furrowed in obvious confusion.

“Buc-,” The word dies in his throat. Bucky watches him as he shoots into a sitting position, holding his chest. His mouth gapes and flounders like a fish. Bucky can hear the wheezing across the room. He rushes forward, all thoughts of his self-control issue gone.

“Steve, what’s wrong?” He sits on the bed with him, hands looking for any obvious wounds. Of course there were none and Steve was gasping for air. “Talia!” Even if she didn’t wake him, she was close by; she always was. “Get me his healer! It’s okay; you’re going to be fine.” Honestly, he didn’t know if it would or wouldn’t be, but it calmed the panic in Steve’s eyes and that made him feel a little bit better.

Bucky barely has time to digest the feeling when a whirlwind of people burst into the room, all of whom are led by Lady Switch Margaret. She gives Steve a look as if to say ‘why didn’t you call me sooner’. Bucky watches as cups her hand into a half of a fist and shakes it before putting it over Steve’s mouth and nose.

“One, two, three, breathe Steve.” Her voice is smooth like honey and calm. It’s clear they’ve done this a few times. Steve takes as deep of a breath as he can manage, letting the air out and practically deflating as he did.

“Again.” He rasps it out softly and the routine is repeated. This time the wheezing stops and Bucky can see the easy rise and fall of his husband’s chest after a few coughs. Lady Margaret touches her wrist to his forehead, going through a number of small tests to see if everything else in check.

“What was that?” Bucky finds his voice after she gives Steve the okay. He looks from his husband to his husband’s tutor, to Bruce Banner - his personal healer, to Talia and Clint, back to Steve. His husband turns a little pink and shuffles back against the headboard.

“You all may go.” He dismisses them, waiting for the room to be cleared before speaking again. “I have a breathing condition called asthma. My lungs basically constrict, making it hard for me to breathe. Sometimes, like just now, I’ll sporadically have an attack. Other times something triggers it; like pollen or perfumes. Margaret has a spell that… well, she explained it as purifying the air and mixing it with a little extra. It makes my airways open up again.” He talks with his hands, using them to show how his airways close with an asthma attack and open back up with the administered spell.

“I want to learn the spell.” Bucky is speaking before Steve can completely finish. He wants to be able to help Steve when he needs it. His magic caste may be dangerous to use, but its use would be good for this one thing. It allowed him to control not only his type of magic, but the magic of the other three castes as well. With practice, he was always told, he’d be able to control all four castes. It never interested him to do so before, but there’s no time like the present.

“I’ll have Margaret teach you.” Steve nods, smiling. He knows it’s probably the best idea even if his brain did’t want to rely on someone he just met, let alone someone he didn’t trust yet.

Silence settled upon them. It was only then that Bucky realized they were in the second bedroom still. That meant Steve came to him in the night. But why - not that he was complaining but Steve was so obviously not ready last night and now here he was in his bed and no, no, no. Don’t follow that train of thought, you’ll scare him away. Bucky clears his throat.

“So, uh, what’re you doing in here?” The look on Steve face drops and Bucky feels himself fall into a ramble. “Not that I mind, I mean as long as you don’t mind then I don’t mind – I was just curious because you went to bed in the other room and now you’re here and –“ Steve stops the words spilling from his mouth with a hand on his knee. It only brings into perspective how close Bucky is sitting next to Steve on the bed. Part of him that doesn’t trust himself wants to jump up and run across the room. The other part of him wants to scoot closer and drop a kiss on those smiling lips.

“Calm down, Bucky. I’m fine with being here. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.” It’s Steve that shifts a little closer, moving to take his hand. “I want to be here. I know yesterday – I didn’t have the best attitude or perspective. I am willing to try and make this work if you are, though.” All Bucky can do is nod. He was a bit stunned by the admission that was very different from all of Steve’s actions the day before. 

“For the record,” He rumbled quietly, “I never thought you wouldn’t try to make it work. You just didn’t seem happy about it.”

“Who could be when they have no choice but to move away from everyone and everything they know and love? When they have to move to a strange place with strange people who don’t know anything about them or how to take care of them and will probably just talk bad about them and conspire to have them killed?” He was getting worked up; it was visible in the way his chest heaved once more.

“Steve, Steve, breathe, doll. It’s okay, I understand. I don’t blame you.” He squeezes the hand that took his so boldly. In the next second, Steve caught his breath only to lose it laughing.

“Did you just call me ‘doll’?”

“I – yeah, I guess I did.” Bucky could feel his cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. Steve’s laughing dies down, leaving that captivating smile on his face. “You never answered why you were here.” It’s a soft statement, almost a whisper. Of course, the smile drops and Steve tries to pull his hand away. For a moment Bucky doesn’t let it go. When he does, Steve’s hands are put together and his face curls into a worried expression.

“You were screaming in the middle of the night.” As soon as the statement leaves his husband’s mouth, Bucky’s body involuntarily tenses. That normally meant a nightmare. He was glad he didn’t remember this time, though that didn’t change anything. It was the same nightmare every time he woke someone with his screams. Steve opens his mouth to continue but Bucky halts him by putting a hand up.

“I have nightmares from the war.” He doesn’t feel like he can go on beyond that just yet. He smiles bitterly, like the admission physically hurt him. “It doesn’t happen often anymore.” Steve just shrugs.

“I have asthma and you get nightmares. We can help each other with them. You stopped when I started singing; I don’t have a problem doing that for you.” It was the least he could do when Bucky was going to learn the spell to help keep his asthma in check. “C’mon, let’s get ready and go have breakfast.”

  


Breakfast was spent with easily flowing conversation. A meal prepared from the main kitchens was brought up after a silent admission to each other about not being able to cook. From there, Bucky showed the en suite office, laundry room and other little closets where things were kept. They unpacked Steve’s things into the master suite, having a conversation about sleeping arrangements.

“I don’t want to have to duck under General Romanov’s arm or argue with her to get to you when you’re having a nightmare.”

“Is that seriously how you got to me? You ducked under her arm?” He was grinning. His little spitfire of a husband got past the head of his personal guard by ducking under her arm.

“I don’t think she was expecting it.” Bucky put down the stack of book in his hands.

“She’s about to lead our army. She should have expected it.” He sits on his bed – their bed – and watches Steve organize his art supplies on the desk Bucky had brought in for him. “In that moment, you were a submissive going to care for your Dominant, of course you were going to find a way around her.”

“The point is, Bucky, I don’t want to have to find a way around her.”

“So we share a bed.” Bucky shrugged easily and that was the end of that.

  


By the time for supper rolled around, Bucky couldn’t get enough of Steve. He may or may not have fallen for the azure eyes that sparkled with mischief before a pillow was launched in Bucky’s direction or the otherworldly sound of laughing with just a hint of a wheeze hidden at the end. He learned his husband’s favorite color was blue; his birthday was on the 185th day of the year; he used to be much sicker as a child and still has a weakened immune system; he prefers drawing to let his magic run free rather than singing but he’ll do either in a pinch. 

By the time for supper rolled around, Bucky could or couldn’t imagine a life without Steve. His mind ran with ideas and plans and hopeful life milestones with a little blonde who was clueless as to how cute he really was.

There was a moment in the middle of supper when mania threatened. It was a moment where hysteria crept through his thoughts, making his eyes dart around the room even though he knew they were safe. Psychosis, as the doctors named it years ago, was a side effect of his magic caste that struck whenever it felt the need. He refused to give in to the urge to check if the perimeter was secure; the new longing to double-check the security of his submissive. He remained seated, eating and carrying casual conversation on with his husband.

  


High above the kingdom of Avanna, in a world thought to be made of clouds, dreams, and riches, Gods and Goddesses planned and plotted for their selves. One Goddess keeps her eyes trained on Shileen – more specifically - its Crown Prince. Searoalen’s plans had been in the works for more years than anyone could fathom and she’d be damned if one mortal was going to ruin it all. She waved her fingers, twirling the threads of chaos in the mind of one Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes of Avanna. The further into madness she could purge this one, the better. The mortal would be scared away; everything would go as she intended.

On the other side of the airspace, another God took more interest than he probably should as well. At first it was of the Goddess of Madness and Chaos, with her ebony skin and long golden hair. He knew her eyes to be the color of soil. His eyes followed hers, down to Shileen and into the palace. He could see the tendrils of godly magic unfairly playing with the mortal’s mind. While Searoalen took interest in the Crown Prince Dominant, the God of Good and Justice’s eye was caught by the Crown Prince Submissive. It was a rule, Kriv knew, that they were not to mettle with the mortals that could control others with their works of art; a rule that had been laid down years ago, before mortals even knew how to use the powers bestowed upon them, when the light of the sun was just created. These mortals, the ones that invoked thoughts and emotions with music or pictures, were one of the two castes that could rival the Pantheon. No one wanted to give either a reason to do so. Last thing they needed was to be overthrown. The Goddess was already attempting to manipulate a mortal in the other caste that could defeat them.

He was supposed to be the God of Good and Justice. But what was he to do when being just meant not being good?

Not follow the rules, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember! Let me know if anything is off and remind me Im not writing for ghosts! :) (Here or tumblr, Im not picky).

**Author's Note:**

> ConCrit (constructive criticism) is greatly appreciated and wanted! Thanks for reading!


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